


Caged Songbirds

by AmadErik



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Christine Daaé is naive, Erik has Issues, F/M, Past Issues, Poor Erik, Ventriloquism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 03:37:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15428196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmadErik/pseuds/AmadErik
Summary: Erik is full of secrets. Can Christine find out some of the elements of that mysterious and bit of crazy man's past or present?





	Caged Songbirds

Christine Daaé did not feel well at all in that house all alone. She did not understand herself as she did not feel well when Erik was constantly staring at her and was crawling at her feet, pleading for a spare look from her, like a miserable dog for a glance of its owner. She could not wait to have Erik out of the house finally, when he had to go out to shop, she at least did not have to look at that horrid skull face and share her companion with that madman she was mostly uncomfortable with. She thought, at least, while he was away, she could relax and forget this situation she was in for a week now, and could not wait until Erik finally lets her go back to the surface where she belonged to. The time when it comes was up to when Erik will trust her enough to let her go, and be sure she will go back to him “by her free will”. She doubted that time will ever come, as she could not imagine she will want to see Erik again by her free will after she finally gets released from this tomb five floors below the earth, with a coffin as the master bedroom’s bed… 

Yes, she had to regain his trust after the unmasking, so she was kind to him, painfully and very much kind, not to hurt him by a word or just a facial expression. His face and his mad scientist strange mental state always scared her a bit and she had to be strong not to give away her real feelings and she always had to force a smile on her face which has turned paler and paler in these past days. 

Yet… now that Erik was away, she wasn't able to relax and free herself from the thoughts that bothered her, and strangely, these thoughts weren't about herself any more. They were about Erik. She did not hate him, of course. He was a miserable poor creature, a man who had to hide from others because of his face, underground, with such talents he has… she was often wondering what would Erik be like if he was born with a face even a mother could love. From Erik’s bitter remarks she learned Erik wasn't loved by his mother and Christine wondered how a mother could not love her son, even if he is different… And maybe Erik’s face isn't the most frightening treat of his. Maybe he wouldn't have become such a madman if someone loved him through his life… 

She wasn't sure anymore she did not ever want to return to Erik. She pitied, and in a way, missed him. She was uncomfortable by the thought of losing him for good, however she wished to get rid of him when he was around. Maybe Erik was right? Maybe one really can get used to everything? Even eternity? Even a deformed face…? Even madness…? 

To ease her pain, she tried to explore the rest of the house she hasn't seen before. It was a wiser idea to avoid Erik’s suite in the house, as that room held nothing but disgust and sadness for her when she saw it, especially the coffin, which served as a bed for this real living dead. She couldn't bear to look at it so she rather walked to the other direction. The hallway led to the dining room where the unmasking took place at the piano… she closed and squeezed her eyes shut as the memory stirred in front of her in full naturalism, but when she closed her eyes it was Erik’s enraged skull face she saw instantly, so she shook her head violently and took a deep breath to relax. She passed the piano and harp with hurrying steps, not looking back. She was in the kitchen, and through it, she could enter a smaller room she never saw before. The door was now open. Strange, she did not remember a door being there, but maybe it was just because she chose rather not to leave the Louis-Philippe room for too long time, she rather spent time there when she needed alone time, and did not explore the whole house before. Partly it was because she did not think Erik would like if she was “too inquisitive”, as it only gave her misfortune, but partly because she was afraid to find something just as insane in the house as the coffin. She was yet too curious not to go there, only she was determined to turn and run to the opposite direction as fast as possible if she meets something horrendous. 

As she cautiously tucked her head in, it seemed to be like some kind of storage room where Erik kept things he did not instantly and always need, yet he did not wish to get rid of entirely. She was surprised to notice some dresses folded and packed in a nice stack on the top of a chest in one of the corners. She picked up one of the dresses, being curious. It was beautiful, but very old, out of fashion by the time, maybe it was in fashion in the 30’s. Christine assumed them to be dresses of Erik’s mother. Why did he keep them if they did not like each other with his mother at all? Why does he cling to the past when it was bad? 

She looked through the room as her fantasy was woken up by the old things kept in there. Books Erik did not really want to read, but felt sorry for throwing away, seemingly not really quality material books for not too smart women, full of romantic nonsense, which Erik must find utterly laughable, shoes both for men and women, strangely, there were clothing for a man of Erik’s size, though they weren't black. All light colors like light brown, red, light blue, green… if Erik owns these outfits why does he always wear all black? He’d sure feel better in a lighter colored suit, as it wouldn't be always reminded of death… maybe Erik likes to suffer a bit…? There was an unidentified string instrument placed on a smaller table, and Christine curiously pinched on one of the strings to see what it sounded like. The instrument was terribly out of tune, seemingly Erik did not bother to keep it tuned up and in a good shape as it was covered in dust. It was strange to see. Why Erik does not keep an instrument in a good condition being such a talented and devoted musician? Why did he abandon this strange and unknown, and most likely unique instrument, all alone in a storage room? She examined it for possible cracks or injuries, but she could identify none, which only made the matters stranger. She placed it back on its place and wanted to wander further in the room when she heard something strange behind her back. 

Instantly fearing it was Erik, she turned around fast and wished to run away, but then she saw the source of the sound, and smiled. 

\- You scared me. – She laughed out nervously, taking a few steps closer to the birdcage which was placed on a counter and it contained a small bird who jumped and flew around in the cage. – I did not know Erik had a pet. – Christine admitted, speaking to herself.   
\- Clever bird. Nice bird. – Christine heard the bird talking on Erik’s bit altered voice. 

She laughed. Yes, she knew birds could be trained to imitate human speech, and imitated the sentences they heard the most. Though she knew the bird did not really talk, it was nice to converse with someone other than Erik, who mostly only scared her with his gloomy thoughts, or made her sad with his lamenting. Curiously, she called out. 

\- What’s your name? – She stepped close to the birdcage, and examined the small animal. Its colorful feathers amused her and she enjoyed looking into the bird’s big brown eyes. The animal seemed to examine her with interest. – What’s your name? – Christine repeated, hoping birdy will reply. The most common thing was to teach the birds to their name, so she was sure Erik named the bird somehow. 

\- Hades. – The bird replied with pride.   
\- I could have sworn. – Christine sighed, but shook her head with a forgiving smile. Erik is Erik, one can’t be surprised about this.   
\- Christine! Christine! – It chirped happily.   
\- Do you know my name? – She laughed out again. – Erik taught you my name? 

This was so sweet to think of, imagining Erik to happily and randomly exclaim “Christine!” at the bird numerous times, so that it will repeat the name one day. Maybe he wanted to hear her name form someone else as well? 

She looked at the bird with a smile and sat down at a kind of dusty wooden chair, facing the cage. She wished to spend time with the animal, knowing what else he can say. She did not have to wait for too long when birdy started whistling, it was a very well- trained little singing bird as he could sing the first few measures of Haydn’s Gypsy rondo. Christine was listening to the small bird in awe, and with a huge grin all over her face. Her eyes shone with delight, once in the days spent down in the cellars. She even forgot about the negative and scary side of Erik.

\- Erik loves Christine. – The bird continued after the music ended.   
\- He must say it a lot. – Christine closed her eyes and involuntarily smiled again. – And how much does he love Christine?   
\- Endlessly.   
\- You have kind of a vocabulary. Can you say something else? – Christine winked at the small creature as if he was a human being. 

The bird tilted its head from side to side and gave some small chirps of happiness, then flew higher on its place to start reciting a Shakespeare poem: 

O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?  
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,  
That can sing both high and low:  
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;  
Journeys end in lovers meeting,  
Every wise man's son doth know.  
What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;  
Present mirth hath present laughter;  
What's to come is still unsure:  
In delay there lies not plenty;  
Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,  
Youth's a stuff will not endure.

Christine gasped in awe upon hearing the small bird’s talent in learning such a poem from Erik. She was sure he taught the bird to numerous poems and songs in his solitude to ease his pain. Poor unhappy Erik, having no one else to converse with than this small bird. She felt it even more now, the need to comfort him when he returns, to be kind to him… for the tie of those few days they will spend together… and maybe… yes it is now sure: she will return from time to time to see Erik. He will at least have someone to care for him, however strange, depressed or insane he might be sometimes. 

When Erik returned, they had a small conversation about how that bird was cute, and Christine asked if Erik taught him to many things. Erik only shrugged and nodded, saying one can’t really do anything else, being lonely.   
\- You will never be lonely again Erik. – The young girl said with determination and compassion in her voice. – I am going to come back to you always, even after I leave.   
\- Oh Christine… - Erik went on his knees in front of Christine, and started kissing the hem of her dress with devotion, and relief. 

Finally the girl stated what he wished to hear from her… finally she considered spending time with him after being released back upstairs, and shall willingly enter the House by the Lake…   
Maybe he still has hope…

She found out much secrets of his, entering the storage room, and she must have put the pieces together, figuring many things out by herself… but she does not have to figure out everything… the past with his mother, the reason he does not wear light colors, the story behind the Persian instrument… and the most important thing shall remain in secret as well: 

 

The bird can’t speak.


End file.
